Part 8 (2/2)
And so they need not purchase what is called a whole set, or, more shopmanly, a ”suite,” comprising a dozen of almost everything, whose chief merit is in its completeness, of which we tire; and this merit is destroyed when on breaking one of the two bread-and-b.u.t.ter plates we find it is a last year's pattern, and cannot be matched at the shop without its being specially made for us.
How much more we should be attached to a pretty thing if we could say of it: ”Don't you remember we bought that cup when So-and-So came to stay with us?” Such a.s.sociations endow everyday objects with life.
The original outlay throughout the house may proceed in like manner, and spare rooms may be furnished after the other rooms.
This would enable more young people to marry, and they need not go to a shop whose advertis.e.m.e.nts recommend them to furnish on the three years'
system, by the end of which time they will have paid double the value of their furniture, and most of it will probably be discarded, or broken in pieces.
Perhaps a day may come when n.o.body will heed an advertis.e.m.e.nt, and only look at a circular when they write memoranda on its clean side. Then our postmen will be spared the bulk of their work, which makes it a perpetual Valentine's-day for them.
It is too visionary to hope that our eyes may cease to be distressed by posters blazing everywhere, or that nearly half of every book or newspaper we buy may not be made up of advertis.e.m.e.nts.
But no more on this irritating topic, as I would only counsel those about to furnish not to be too much tempted with novelties, especially patent novelties.
Some of us are beginning to tire of the mediaevalism which was the natural reaction from the preposterous designs of the wall-papers, curtains, and other furniture which disguised our rooms--the ridiculous carpets with such patterns as orange-blossoms tied with white satin favours (”So sweet for a bride”), and rugs with huge blue roses.
But we have now gone too far the other way, and made all our houses like ”High” churches, not permitting even the simplest unconventional design to interfere with the severity of our Gothic taste. This is a mistake; for as our houses ought not to be turned into Greek temples, as they were in the time of the first French Empire, as little should they be decorated like Gothic churches.
Many styles, and many beautiful yet diverse objects, may be made to harmonize by tasteful arrangement; and this freer lat.i.tude is well adapted to our varied moods and our many-sided lives. Few people of moderate means can carry out one style in its entirety.
I have seen a very handsome drawing-room fitted up perfectly in the Louis Quatorze style, and spoiled by some German bead-mats on the table; and some of the most beautiful upholstery I ever saw, of Neo-Greek designs painted on straw-coloured satin, covering chairs of purely Greek form, looked droll on a Brussels carpet with fuchsias upon it.
Twenty years ago, people of taste and pretension to archaeological knowledge furnished their houses in the Elizabethan style, with the result of uncomfortable furniture abounding in anachronisms.
The Queen Anne style, so fas.h.i.+onable at present, is far better suited to modern requirements than is the Elizabethan, which is of necessity kept exclusively English. The Jacobean style too is less rigid, as we may with propriety consider that much French and Italian elegance had been imported into the court of Scotland by the two French queens and Mary Stuart. The possession of a portrait by Vand.y.k.e would be of itself enough to make one wish to furnish a house in the stately and elegant style of his time.
Although it may not be so pure in taste, the style of the Renaissance is eminently adapted for comfortable household service. The delicate arabesques and grotesques followed from Raffaelle's adornments of the Vatican are not too precious for use in household decoration--where painting cannot be expected to last as long as pictures framed and out of reach of daily handling--and yet they are graceful enough to refresh without exciting a tired mind.
Any one possessing artistic taste and some training can work out these fanciful decorations for home gratification, and being cherished, they will last three or four times as long as the graining of the house-painter. Besides, and this is a great consideration in cities, all the majolica ornaments and tiles, which are so suitable to this style of decoration, will wash, and be bright and clear for ever. Do not despise the Renaissance, for there is much delight in it, though not of the highest kind. We may keep the higher things for higher uses.
A Brussels carpet of Persian pattern is very nice for a drawing-room, as it is un.o.btrusive, and yet it is cheerful, and suits most styles of furniture. This, like the dining-room carpet, had better be made with a border, and so as to allow of a margin of the floor round it being varnished. If edged with fringe its appearance is enriched; and I do not in practice find the fringe inconveniently displaced by ladies'
dresses, nor in dusting, as I feared it might be when I added it to a carpet which required enlarging.
The remarks on dining-room curtains and rods apply equally here, as it is of great consequence that the room should be easily cleaned.
For a young couple beginning to furnish, it may be well to have some of the pretty _cretonnes_ for curtains and chair-coverings, which would last clean and bright while better were being worked on simple materials from patterns, either original or borrowed from the Art Needlework Society. Then the _cretonne_ curtains might be hung in the newly furnished spare bed-room. The chair-coverings would be replaced one by one as others were worked or nice materials met with.
In doing fancy-work, it is better to make one good thing large enough to take a pride in, than countless little elegances, such as mats, antimaca.s.sars, table banner-screens, etc., which seldom last long, and are terribly in the way. The time consumed in making pincus.h.i.+ons, pocket-tidies, and tiny knick-knacks, would serve to tapestry a room, let alone making curtains for it.
Where there are fine views from the windows, they are better framed as pictures than curtained. Draperies, if they are very beautiful, are more favourably displayed when facing the light (as in the case of _portieres_) than at the windows, where they are liable to fade, and the light s.h.i.+ning through them hides their beauty. Draught more often enters from doorways than by the windows; and in summer doors are often unhung for the sake of coolness and additional s.p.a.ce, and the _portieres_ are comfortable to use on chilly days.
Venetian blinds are the best of any interior blinds, though window awnings are much pleasanter in summer. Red tammy enriches the colour of the room, but it is not agreeable to sit long in a room filled with the flame-coloured light, though this softens as the blinds fade, which they soon do. Yellow blinds are very disagreeable, and tryingly sunny in summer. Blue are as unpleasantly cold, and make people look like ghosts. White holland gives as soft a light as any, and if carefully used the blinds will not go awry. Green tammy is good, but it soon fades.
With a gas fire there is no occasion for a hearth-rug, though fur and other large rugs look very comfortable spread before the windows in winter, and Indian mats look cool in summer, and preserve the carpet from fading.
In buying furniture it is safer to move cautiously. Seize, by all means, anything that strikes you as being ”just the very thing,” the moment you see it, or it may escape you for ever; but do not be beguiled into buying a whole ”suite” of everything at once, because you think you may as well finish the work while you are about it, but let your taste, as well as wisdom, have time to grow. We all know the feeling of vexation we endure when we have committed ourselves to any particular thing, and find subsequently something which would have suited us very much better.
<script>